The Thin Ice
by Wilsy
Summary: Harry suspects Draco Malfoy is a deatheater and forces Hermione to befriend him in order to find more information. Hermione and Draco get closer than expected, and Hermione finds herself in a precarious situation with her friends. Rated T for language, rating may be upped later as I see fit.
1. Chapter 1

_My work, my ideas, not my characters. Please lend me your thoughts on this. It is un-beta'd, so if you spot any mistakes, please let me know._

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room with their heads together conspiratorially. Harry was becoming more and more convinced that Draco Malfoy was a deatheater as time went on, and he was looking desperately for ways to prove it.

"What plan d'you think you can come up with, mate? It's not like we can catch him sleeveless anytime soon, it's too cold for that. And he isn't going to just tell us," Ron was becoming very annoyed. He believed Harry fully, but he couldn't see what proof they had, other than the git's father was a deatheater too. His stomach grumbled, testifying to the outrageous amount of time he had been sitting and plotting instead of eating.

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked at Hermione hopefully. She was, of course, on Harry's side, but had her doubts that Malfoy was anything other than an annoying prat. "There has to be something," he groaned. "Maybe we can convince Moaning Myrtle to spy on him while he's in the bath?"

Hermione snorted. "That would be rather cruel to her, don't you think? Exposing her to that?"

"Well… Maybe. But she had no problem spying on me before, so it's nothing she's never seen…" his voice trailed off uncertainly. "Hermione, can't you think of anything at all?"

She sighed. "We just need to find out from someone close to him, since we'll never be able to just waltz up and ask him."

Harry sat up straight and stared at her. "Wait, Hermione… Why can't we just ask him? I mean, he'd never tell me and Ron, but maybe he'd tell you!"

"Why would he ever tell me? You know how he feels about muggle-borns. There's no way he'd offer that information."

"Ron, what do you think?" Harry looked at his friend pleadingly, desperate for reassurance.

"It isn't like she's his girlfriend, Harry. He hates her. Unless 'Mione pulls off some crazy scheme, I don't see how it would work."

"Ronald! I told you to stop calling me by that ridiculous name. It is childish and an abomination," Hermione glared at Ron. He was so stubborn about calling her that, as if she were his own property to name.

"You let Krum call you Herm-own-ninny! Why is this any different?"

"Because Viktor is from a different part of the world, and-"

"Enough, you two! Ron, stop calling her that! Hermione, stop picking fights when he does! We have work to do here," Harry interrupted them, glaring. "Hermione. I have faith that if you were to try getting close to Malfoy, he'd open up to you. Maybe if the three of us stop being seen together, you could convince him we had a falling out and you want revenge. The two of you could start plotting, and he might let his guard down enough to let something slip."

"Actually, that's crazy enough that it just might work…" Ron looked thoughtful for a moment. "We've fought enough in the past that it wouldn't seem absurd we're not speaking. It's worth a shot."

"I don't actually have a say in this, do I?" asked Hermione. "Your minds are already made up, and I'm going to be stuck trying to get cozy with the stupid ferret. Brilliant." Harry and Ron failed to look ashamed through their grins. Hermione decided it wouldn't be hard to pretend to be angry with them; why, she wouldn't have to pretend at all. She slammed the book that had been balanced on her lap shut violently and loudly. "You two are so full of yourselves it's unbelievable! How I've stood you for so long is a complete mystery to me! I've had enough of your inconsideration. Have a nice life," she barked at them before turning and storming up the stairs to her dorm.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look of absolute terror with each other. "D'you think she really meant that?" whispered Harry.

"No way, mate. She's just setting the stage! Look how many people are staring at us now. This'll probably be all over Hogwarts by tomorrow morning," Ron whispered back. The pair retreated to their own room, high-fiving happily once they were alone inside.

* * *

Hermione threw herself down onto her bed and ripped the curtains shut. "Boys!" she shouted to the empty room. "Stupid, stupid jerks!" She sighed, finished venting. There wasn't a whole lot she could do about them right now. She might as well try and think of a plan while her brain had the adrenaline of her anger pushing it into overdrive.

Perhaps in potions that week she'd get Neville or Seamus to blow up a cauldron on them, and that could be her in with Malfoy…

* * *

Hermione seated herself away from Harry and Ron in every class for the following days. She ignored them in the Great Hall, and avoided being in the common room at all costs. She caught them grinning at her and trying to send her encouraging looks, but she always just scowled in return. They were going to blow her cover. She decided to use this to her advantage as she walked into potions.

Harry and Ron were already seated at their customary spots when she walked into the dungeon. With a quick glance around the room, she confirmed that Malfoy was already there, and that Harry and Ron were looking at her conspicuously.

She stomped over to them, threw her bag on the ground, and whipped out her wand, shoving it in their faces. "What part of 'leave me alone' don't you trolls understand?" she growled loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Get away from my spot, you two are too stupid to be useful in the front row anyway." Her wand sparked dangerously, punctuating her sentence. Malfoy was watching them, amusement written all over his face.

"Trouble in paradise?" he drawled from across the room. "What's the matter, Granger, have Potty and the Weasel got your granny panties in a bunch?" Malfoy's fellow Slytherins leered at her and giggled.

Harry and Ron scrambled to pick up their books and marched to the back of the room, between Neville and Seamus. Hermione smiled inwardly- the setup could not be more perfect. "I'm not dignifying that with a response, you inbred bastard," Hermione snarled just as Snape swept into the room.

"Why, Miss Granger, such language," Snape murmured softly. "Perhaps fifteen points from Gryffindor would help you to remember your place in future situations."

The Gryffindors all scowled and tossed her dirty looks. Hermione, going pink in the face, settled herself in her seat. "Sorry, Professor," she said quietly. "I won't lose my temper again."

After class, Hermione approached Malfoy as he gathered his things. "Malfoy," she said boldly, not wanting to seem intimidated. "Might I have a word?"

He looked at her appraisingly. What could the mudblood possibly want? He nodded his friends off, letting them know he'd catch them later without saying anything. "Alright, Granger. To what do I owe this astounding honor?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, and he smirked at her confidently.

"I have a… favor to ask you."

"A favor? The Gryffindor princess wants a favor from a lowly, humble Slytherin, such as myself?" He dropped the sarcastic front when he was met with an icy stare from Hermione. "Well, what it is it? What could the likes of you possibly want from the likes of me?"

"I'll take that as a compliment, Malfoy. The likes of you happen to be very good at pissing off Potter and Weasley, and the likes of me happen to want revenge against them." She was secretly enthralled at the look on Malfoy's face after this statement.

"What makes you think I'll help you with your petty deed, Granger? Do it yourself, I don't want to be seen associating with mudbloods."

"You'll help because you know I'm brilliant, and you know that whatever we happen to come up with will be like nothing they've ever faced. Besides," she said darkly, slicing a small gash in her hand with her wand, "my blood's the same as yours." Malfoy paled as she held up her hand, wet with blood.

Blood that looked just like his. "Clean yourself," he choked. "Get that shit away from me."

"Scourgify," Hermione muttered, sucking the blood away with her wand. She healed the cut, and looked up at him expectantly.

"That took balls, Granger. That took serious balls. I'll consider helping you deal with the Golden Boys, as long as you can tell me what's in it for me."

Hermione's heart leapt. This was going far better than she'd expected. It was odd to think that being muggle-born had worked out in her favor, but she was glad it did. "Obviously, you'd pull off the best prank on them you could imagine, or you could embarrass them far worse than you ever could on your own. It'd be beneficial to both of us if we could arrange an understanding."

"An understanding," Malfoy repeated. "Alright, fine. But know that this is _not_ a permanent arrangement, I will _not_ be kind to you, and we are _not_ friends."


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks so much for all the kind reviews. I hope you all continue to enjoy this. Let me know what you think! I know the chapter is short, but it's longer than the first and I wanted to update quickly, so I hope you'll forgive me._

Hermione returned to the common room that night feeling drained and particularly irritated. She was upset with Harry and Ron for being so obvious about their scheme. It made her question why she was even going through with it in the first place; she didn't really want to team up with Malfoy to get revenge on them, did she?

The more she thought about it, the more Hermione worried that maybe she did have a bit of an ulterior motive for going along with their plan. She often felt used and neglected, and even though they were her best friends, this was such a good opportunity…

No. She had to focus on her task, and that meant she needed to find a way to discreetly contact Harry and let him know of her progress. They very well couldn't be seen acting cozy in the common room if they were meant to be fighting. She also needed to tell him to be less obvious, or he was going to get them caught. She decided to owl him a brief note. Hopefully he would take her advice.

Hermione walked the stairs to the owlry alone, eyes on her feet. Now and then she looked up to make sure she didn't collide with anyone, but she couldn't imagine she'd meet a single soul up here so close to curfew.

She reached the top of the tower and looked out across the grounds. She could see the Forbidden Forest stretching out below her, and a cheerful spiral of smoke rose from Hagrid's hut. She allowed herself a small smile. No matter how many friends she did or did not have, Hogwarts was her home.

Someone behind her cleared their throat loudly, interrupting her musings. "What're you doing up here so late, Beaver? All out of wood to chuck, are you?" The familiar drawl sent a shiver down her spine. Of all people to meet here, she certainly hadn't expected Malfoy to make an appearance.

"Actually, Malfoy, beavers and wood chucks are two different animals. Not that I should have expected someone as ignorant as yourself to know that, but I'll admit I had higher hopes for you. Besides, my teeth are perfectly straight, thanks to you. I never did get around to telling you how much I appreciated that." Hermione smirked at him, trying to play the situation as if she were more comfortable than she really felt. _Fake it 'til you make it_, she thought bitterly.

"Answer the question, Granger. Why are you here?" Malfoy glared at her, sending her heart pumping a little faster with fright.

"Surely you're at least aware of the function of the owlry. I'm obviously here to send a letter, not in search of a social call with you." Hermione watched in horror as his eyes narrowed to slits.

"Sending a letter so late, Granger? Sneaking around doesn't suit you. Trying to get something past Potty and the Weasel?"

"As I'm not on speaking terms with 'Potty and the Weasel,' as you so eloquently put it, I don't have to sneak anything past anyone. I just didn't happen to have time until now. But I could make the same accusations of you, Malfoy. What're you doing out so late? Did you have to wait until your toddler pals Crabbe and Goyle went for a nap so you could send a tearful letter to Mommy and Daddy, telling them you miss them?" The words had hardly left her mouth before Malfoy had her pressed against the wall, his wand at her throat.

"Never speak of my family, unless you have a death wish. I will take you apart piece by piece and drain all the mud from your veins if you ever insult me in such a manner again, understood?" Hermione stared at him with wide eyes and nodded shortly. He was panting slightly, all worked up over an insult far less severe than the ones he threw at her daily. Malfoy stayed pressed against her, never breaking eye contact, for several long moments.

"I told you I understand; get your filthy paws off me!" Hermione was getting close to panic now. He had her arms pinned to her sides, and she couldn't get to her wand.

Just as suddenly as he had launched himself at her, Malfoy dropped his hands and stepped backwards. His hands were shaking with nervous rage. "Well? Send your little letter and disappear, Granger. I don't want you in my sight."

Hermione clucked her tongue and moved towards the school owls, wand in hand, choosing the first one to present her with his leg. She tied her letter off deftly, whispered to the owl the delivery information, and turned to face Malfoy. He was staring at her openly, but his face masked whatever mysteries his thoughts held.

"That wasn't appropriate, you know," she told him, taking a few steps closer. "You should really watch yourself; you wouldn't want to make a mistake that would result in your life."

"As I recall it, I was in complete control of the situation. There was _nothing_ the poor little mudblood could have done. Nobody would even notice she disappeared until some unfortunate soul discovered her crumpled little body, covered in owl shit. A fitting burial, that. A shallow grave of shit."

Just like that, Hermione snapped. "Expelliarmus!" She cried, and caught Malfoy's wand as it flew across the room. She threw it behind herself, back into the darkness of the owlry. She marched over to him, backed him against the wall, and jabbed him in the throat with her wand. "Now who's in control, Malfoy? Me. The poor little mudblood has the pureblood in the palm of her filthy fucking hand, doesn't she? I told you to mind yourself, and I meant it. Give me one good reason not to hurt you."

Malfoy whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut.

Hermione's head snapped to the side as she heard sudden footsteps on the stairs. Quickly, she dropped her wand and took a few steps back from Malfoy. Lavender Brown peered through the dim lighting at the pair and giggled. "Oh, I'm not interrupting something, am I?"

Hermione's face pinked as she responded. "Certainly not! We were just… erm…" her voice trailed off uncertainly, fully aware she could not tell Lavender that she'd been about to kill Malfoy.

"Don't worry Hermione, sweetheart, your secret is safe with me! I won't tell a soul!" Lavender winked at her, tied a letter off on an owl, and giggled merrily as she walked away with a spring in her step.

"Way to handle the situation, Granger. Now she's bound to tell the whole school we were snogging! A more filthy rumor I cannot imagine…" Malfoy scowled at Hermione darkly.

"Well I didn't hear you saying anything helpful, either! What was I supposed to tell her, that I was planning on taking your head off and playing football with it?"

"Football?" Malfoy looked confused.

Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. "It's a muggle sport. Two teams kick a ball around a field, trying to score points on each other. Whichever team ends with the most points wins, naturally."

"That was utterly disgusting of you. How dare you fancy kicking my head across a field?" Another dark look settled on his face as he glared at her.

"Oh shove it, Malfoy. You only just finished telling me you were going to remove my limbs and drain the blood-"

"Mud, actually," he corrected.

"The mud, thank you, from my veins. You have absolutely no room to call me disgusting." Hermione folded her arms across her chest unhappily. "It's curfew, Malfoy. I'm leaving. Don't get caught on your way out of here, we have business to take care of."

As she turned to walk away from him, Malfoy's hand shot out and he grabbed her wrist. "Wait. Let me send this and I'll walk you. It's late, and if _you're_ breaking the rules tonight, who knows who else might be?"

"I can assure you that I am perfectly capable of-"

"Defending yourself, blah blah blah. Clearly you aren't, and I'm not going to have your filthy blood on my hands if I don't even get the pleasure of being the one to attack you."

"Honestly, Malfoy-" he raised his hand to silence her.

"Enough. You're waiting, and that's final. Besides, neither of us is on prefect duty, and it would be easier not to get caught if you have two pairs of watchful eyes on the lookout. Surely you won't want to be caught?"

As he walked off in search of his owl, Hermione thought about what had just happened. Was he really only escorting her because he wanted to make sure nobody else got to her first, or was he… concerned for her? There was no way she would ever believe her cared for her, so she scowled at the floor and waited for her enemy to assist her, however unwelcome his assistance might be.

* * *

Several days went by and she thought of Malfoy every now and again. What were the two of them going to plan, and how was she supposed to find anything out when the two of them were still so hostile?

Her answer came the following Friday as she wandered back to the owlry after dinner. She'd been keeping up a more consistent correspondence with her parents; she was getting lonely without Harry and Ron. She reread her letter to her parents as she climbed the stairs, not listening to anything that was happening around her. This was how she ran into someone; a very solid, warm someone.

She stopped in her tracks, bracing her hands on the other person's waist to steady them both. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" She cried out, still not looking up at the person's face, too focused on her hands. "Oh, Malfoy it's you." He was holding perfectly still, face pale and splotched with pink eyes, nose, and cheeks. He stared over her head and did not react to her words at all. "I- Draco, what's the matter? What's wrong?"

Hermione still hadn't released her hold on him. His eyes appeared to be shining with unshed tears, and she found herself oddly concerned. "_Draco? Where'd that come from?" _She mused inwardly, waiting for his response.

"Please let go of me, Granger." His voice was so soft it was nearly lost on her.

"Oh." She dropped her hands, letting them dangle awkwardly at her sides. He didn't walk away from her, and she repeated her question again. "Is something wrong? You seem… Well, not yourself."

"You have no basis for what I am like, as you know absolutely nothing about me." He started to walk forward, brushing his shoulder against hers. Hermione turned and watched him take a few steps before calling out to him.

"I know some things about you, you know."

He stopped walking and looked over his shoulder at her expectantly, the contrast between the pink spots and the pallor of his face harsh. "Enlighten me."

"Well…" Her voice trailed off for a moment as she thought. "You aren't stupid."

"How very astute of you." He began to turn away from her again.

"Wait! You're very talented with potions, have no patience for charms, and you find transfiguration terribly interesting. You hold muggles and muggle-borns in contempt, or at least you pretend to, and you love Quidditch." She paused for breath, but was cut off before she could continue.

"Superficialities, all of them. You don't know anything of substance about me, and you never will. So don't you pretend to care, all of a sudden, and I don't need your pity. The only thing I need from you is for you to stay out of my way." He sighed and continued down the stairs. Hermione, driven by her own loneliness and stubbornness, followed him.

"Well, it isn't like you've ever really let anyone in, is it? Nobody has any idea of anything about you, and you pretend to like it that way, but you hate it! Who wants to live so alone? There's no way you actually give a shit about the people with which you surround yourself. They're all so stupid and shallow. And you're-"

"What, Granger? What is it do you think you know about me that nobody else does? Hmm? I've had it just about up to here," he gestured to his throat sharply, "with you. Get your pretty little nose _out of my business_."

Hermione, of course, wasn't going to let this go so easily. Although she certainly hadn't missed that he had called her nose pretty, she was not going to comment on it. "Look. I'm not after you because I want to meddle in your business. I just. I can see how lonely you are. And I'm lonely too."

For a moment, she could see sympathy grace his features. "Listen, Granger. Whatever it is you're planning, it'll never happen. We will never be friends, and it'll be a cold day in hell before we're anything more." Hermione pondered briefly at his use of the expression, assuming it was something he had picked up at school. She had never been of the impression the magical world had ideas of heaven and hell. "Besides, I'm bloody rich. I have everything I could ever want." He tried to smirk at her, but failed, and he knew she saw through him.

"The man who thinks he has everything…" She paused for a moment, stepping closer to him and locking her eyes with his, "Really has nothing at all."

His face softened. "I know," he whispered, before turning and swiftly walking away.

* * *

That night, Hermione sat in her bed nibbling a sugarquill thoughtfully. She felt she had reached a level of actual understanding with Malfoy. Maybe he wasn't as horrible as he'd led everyone to believe. He had seemed so broken, so _human_, earlier on the staircase. Maybe all this time, he had been leading them to believe one thing about himself, when, in reality, he was an entirely different person altogether.

She was aware that she was now more curious about him than was good for her health. She knew what consequences she might have to face if she really did become his friend. But she wanted to know _so badly._

* * *

Harry and Ron sat in the common room in their favorite seats by the fire. It had been a few weeks now since Hermione had cut off contact with them, and their grades had suffered to the point that they actually had to work hard on their homework.

Sprawled out across the table in front of them were several feet of blank parchment. The pair had been sitting, staring at the blank page, hoping their essays would begin to write themselves, for quite some time. "Ron, do you think she's ever going to come back?" Harry sighed and shoved his glasses back up his nose; they'd been sliding down.

"I dunno, mate. Has she owled you recently? Maybe we ought to send her a note, see if she's making any progress…"

"I haven't heard anything from her since she told me we were being 'a right couple of hags' and were obvious when we waved to her."

"Well, we'd better try and find _something_ out. If nothing's happening with Malfoy, we might as well just give this one up. I don't think I can write any more essays without her."

Harry nodded, and the pair stood up. "We'd better not use Hedwig, though. She's pretty obvious, and I don't want Hermione to hex us for mucking everything up."

"Bloody right," Ron agreed, shaking his head. "She's scary when she's angry." They climbed out of the portrait hole and headed down the hall.

* * *

The next day at breakfast, a small, handsome barn owl landed next to Hermione's toast and stuck out his leg, offering her the letter he had been given. She untied the letter, stoked the owl's head, and gave it a bit of toast before it flew off. She glanced around quickly, making sure nobody was paying much attention to her, and untied the letter.

_Hermione,  
Have you made any progress with what we talked about?  
Missing you,  
H&R_

She sighed. At least this wasn't too obvious, and it was a query they had a right to make. She and Malfoy hadn't exactly been linking arms and skipping around Hogwarts together, singing. A small smile graced her features at the thought, and she glanced up to where she knew he would be sitting. With a shock that felt nearly electric, she found that he had already been looking at her. He smiled lightly, just a tiny up-turn of his lips, but it was there.

Her eyes widened as he stood, holding her gaze, and he mouthed the word _"library"_ to her. Looking back down at her plate, she nodded, and hoped he understood her message.

Taking her quill out of her bag, she scrawled _"yes"_ at the bottom of the note Harry sent her. She stood and walked the length of the table, discreetly dropping her reply in Harry's lap as she passed, and walked out of the Great Hall.

The whole walk to the library, Hermione found herself wondering what it would be that Draco Malfoy wanted.

* * *

Malfoy paced up and down the length of a shelf in the library nervously. What had he been thinking, inviting the mudblood to the library with him? Had he gone out of his mind completely? He swallowed and fingered his wand thoughtfully. What was he going to say to her? "Hello, Granger. I was thinking about the other night when you saw right through me, and I wanted to know if we could be companions? You said it yourself, we're both rather lonesome…" Absolutely not. He shook his head. He found himself thinking of the texture of her voice. Smooth, like silk, but not weak. Strong, like his own, and confident, but not arrogant. He thought of the way her mouth moved as she spoke, and of the peculiar tint of her eyes. They were like honey, but with little flecks of something darker around the iris. And her skin was practically flawless, and that little sprinkle of freckles across her nose _was_ rather adorable… Enough. He had to control himself. This was a mudblood, not a person, and he could not risk thinking of her as though they were of the same species.

Because they weren't, were they?


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to all the kind reviews. Sorry this update took so long, I haven't had much time to sit down and write a decently sized chapter, and I didn't want to undercut you. My ideas and work, but not my world._

Draco Malfoy stopped his relentless pacing and proudly drew himself up to his full height just as Hermione entered the library. He nodded to her once, by way of greeting, and made a sweeping motion with his hand, offering for her to lead the way. "Off to your favorite table, Granger. I'm sure you have one. We have business to discuss."

Wordlessly, Hermione stepped in front of him. She felt oddly disappointed that he had called her there on a business meeting, but couldn't fathom what it was, exactly, she'd been hoping for. The pair made their way to a small, round table in an alcove just off the section devoted to _Muggle Inventions-_Hermione enjoyed the area immensely because there was rarely any traffic through that area. "Is this about that prank we have to orchestrate? I've been waiting for you to get to that, Malfoy."

"Granger, please, be civil. It must be hard, having been raised by savages, but have something to accomplish, and I'd rather not waste time arguing today." He studied her eyes as he spoke. She was one of a very few people he could trust to listen when he spoke. Her eyes stayed locked upon his own, and he was impressed. He had perfected Lucius's cold stare, and most flinched away from the gaze. There must be some steel in her, after all.

"Quite," she murmured, staring down at the table. She felt embarrassed. Of course she'd mouthed off to him on what was likely the only occasion he hadn't wanted that sort of thing.

"Well, what do you have in mind?" Malfoy took out a roll of parchment and opened it, tapping it with his wand and muttering a few words under his breath. "There. We can take notes on our ideas, and now only you and I may read the words written here."

"That was very clever of you," Hermione complimented him before she could stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. "Uh, that is to say-"

"Hush, Granger. Your ideas, get talking."

And it was in this manner that Hermione and Draco passed several hours, heads together, plotting, just the way this whole strange situation had begun between Hermione and her two best friends a few weeks ago. Slowly the two shifted closer together, neither noticing. Eventually, their thighs were pressed flush against each other, but it still escaped their notice. Their quills were flying rapidly across the parchment, sketching out several scenarios and ideas.

* * *

Lunch had long since come and gone before Hermione woke with a start. Her neck ached, and her back was sore from falling asleep in the hard library chair. She became aware of the warmth of another person next to her… As a matter of fact, she appeared to have fallen asleep on this person's shoulder. To her horror, she realized who this was. Malfoy. She had just slept with her head on Draco Malfoy's shoulder. _Oh, Godric,_ she thought. _I'll never hear the end of this._

But to her great surprise, as she listened to his steady, deep breathing, he had fallen asleep too. Hermione pulled her head away from him slowly and he groaned, missing her warmth. She studied his features; she had never seen him in such an unguarded position before. His face wasn't quite so sharp as it looked during heated arguments. In fact, he looked peaceful and handsome. Nothing so shocking that she was prepared to swoon and fall in love with him, of course. At this point, he was just a bit of a curiosity. "Hey, Draco," she whispered. "Draco, wake up." She tapped his shoulder gently.

He raised his head, breathing in sharply and blinking. "I- what?"

"We fell asleep planning, apparently. Perhaps we ought to take a break for a little while and get something to eat? It's after lunch, but we can sneak into the kitchen."

Malfoy looked at her distastefully, wrinkling his nose slightly. "I can't believe I fell asleep with the like of you perched next to me. I don't need food; I need a bath." And with that, he stood, and stormed out of the library.

Hermione, mouth slightly ajar, and more than a little wounded, watching him disappear.

Xxxx

Malfoy kept good on his word and headed straight to the bathroom. Once inside, he stared around the room. His shoulders and neck ached from sleep, and a nice hot bath would be just the thing to relieve the tension. As he began filling a tub with water, he caught a whiff of a vaguely familiar scent on his shirt.

"Ugh!" he spat, realizing what it was. Vanilla spice, and something else female. Granger. He could smell the brat on his clothing, and realized that not only had he slept next to her, but with her head on his shoulder, and more than likely with his head resting atop hers.

At this moment, Draco felt two very conflicting emotions- the familiar twinge of disgust he felt for those of such low status, and a pang of longing. Impossibly, he found that he missed Granger's annoying presence.

It was time to put an end to such nonsense. Forget her brilliant plan against Potter and the Weasel. He was finishing this, long before it got out of hand. Before it even got in hand. Before there was even an 'it' to go anywhere, in or out of hand. So, he put all thoughts of 'it' out of his hands, out of his mind, and, hopefully, _out of his way_.

* * *

Hermione stormed back to her room, annoyed that she had allowed that to happen. How much of a backslide it had caused, she wasn't sure, but knew that it was more than what she was prepared to handle. Hopefully they wouldn't have to start from square one. It was difficult enough to deal with Malfoy when they were being somewhat civil, let alone when they were back on violent terms.

Of course, she had the greater scheme of things to bear in mind as well- Harry and Ron had trusted her to find out information. So far, she felt like she was failing. It had been weeks, and she'd hardly made any progress.

Next weekend was a Hogsmeade weekend. Perhaps she could catch him off-guard there and correct the disaster this plan had become.

Then again, maybe it was time she tell Harry and Ron things weren't going to work. She missed their company greatly.

But Malfoy was so fascinating… He was something to study, in a way that her boys were perfectly the opposite. He was closed off, guarded, and rather like a cold statue. Harry and Ron wore their hearts on their sleeves. There was no mystery to them. Draco Malfoy, however, was quite a tangled yarn.

She sighed. Hogsmeade would be a terrible idea. He'd be too close to his friends for comfort. Perhaps, if she could borrow Harry's map, she could run across him on prefect duty that night, and she could talk to him then…

* * *

Malfoy paced the common room tirelessly. He couldn't stop thinking about that damn Granger. Why did she have to be so far below him? Of course, her hair was atrocious, she was annoying, and a little plain, but she was smart, and witty, and she was genuine. That was what attracted him to her- she was nobody other than herself, and he was tired of being surrounded by those who constantly put up a false front. That was what being in Slytherin got him, though, he supposed.

He checked the hour; it was quarter to eleven. Time for him to start his rounds. Hopefully the night would go quickly, and without any disturbances. He needed time to force himself to forget his problems in peace, and wandering the dark halls of the castle seemed like a brilliant way to do so.

And for a while, his method worked. He simply counted his steps and counted his breaths, forcing himself to keep track of two patterns at once. This was soothing, as it left little room in his head for other thoughts, and he silently congratulated himself on his own brilliance.

Until, that is, he heard footsteps on the cold stone floors. Footsteps that were headed directly towards him, and were quick enough that they seemed to certainly have a purpose. A nervous chill found its way down his spine, and Malfoy tensed himself in preparation of meeting an enemy. Who else would be in this part of the castle so late?

Granger. Of course. Of all the people he would run across in the vast halls of Hogwarts, it had to be the one person he was trying his hardest to forget.

"Draco," she murmured gently, looking at him with her soft, doe eyes. "We need to talk about earlier."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Granger, what would possess you to think I'd be interested in hearing what you have to say?" He was, of course, immensely interested, and he knew that she knew, somehow.

"Nothing, save for the fact that I know you've thought about it nearly as much as I have, if not more." She hadn't some very close, he noticed. She stood roughly ten feet from him; it was a safe distance for such a talk.

"Look, Granger. What happened today was a fluke. Neither of us were in our proper minds, and I'd rather just forget the entire incident, if you don't mind."

Hermione tilted her head slightly, like a dog that couldn't quite understand what it was hearing. "What do you mean? We were sleepy, not drunk, Draco. It wasn't even a serious problem; plenty of people fall asleep in the library!"

"Yes, but plenty of people are not you and I. Think of the controversy it would cause if you and I had been caught cuddled up for a nap. What would your pals think? I know mine wouldn't be too happy. It's dangerous for both of us, and that's why we need to be careful. I told you I'd help you with your stupid prank, and I'm a man of my word. But we will not be friends after this is through. Don't fool yourself." He shifted from one foot to the next, and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. He hated telling her all that. He hated even more the brief flash of hurt that had dashed across her face. It was necessary, though, for both their survival.

"If that's really what you need to believe to justify running away from me, Malfoy, then fine. Do what you want. Lie to me, but don't lie to yourself." Hermione stared at him, her eyes hard. Malfoy wondered what she was getting at- there was no way she could have known he was becoming attached to her, was there? "You know I'm no different from you. I can see it written all over your face." She turned on her heel and started to walk away from him.

Malfoy sighed, unsure of what to do next. "Granger," he called out, not wanting to let things dangle like this. "Wait. Please." She stopped, but did not turn around. He crossed the distance between them and stepped in front of her, grasping her upper arms tightly. "Listen. We are good for each other. Neither of us exactly have anyone else of equivalent mental capacity to talk to, and you were right before. I am so damn lonely it aches. Maybe I do need you. But we have to keep this a secret, or we'll be in danger. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded slowly. He needed her. Draco Malfoy needed her. "Just stop running from me, okay Malfoy? I don't bite. Hard." She winked at him, and Malfoy felt that familiar tug of longing he was beginning to associate with her.

"Alright, Granger. But be warned," he leaned down and breathed into her ear quietly, and her heart quickened in response. "I do." He winked at her back, taking very careful notice of the way she had bitten her bottom lip, and walked away. "Library tomorrow after breakfast tomorrow, Granger. I expect to see you there. We have work to do."

Nodding weakly, Hermione stood rooted to the spot. That final encounter with Malfoy had sent chills down her back, and warmth down to… other places she'd rather not think about. Shaking her head to clear her mind, she headed up to the common room. There had to be an essay or two she had yet to finish. Right?

* * *

Pansy Parkinson stepped out of one of the many hidden passageways scattered throughout Hogwarts. She'd just finished up a wonderful encounter with Blaise Zabini, and he had left some minutes ago. She'd waited in the passage to straighten her makeup and hair, and to smooth down her clothes, but instead she managed to eavesdrop on a rather remarkable conversation. The Slytherin Prince and The Mudblood, eh?

She took it as her duty as a proper Pureblood to make sure every single person in the school knew what was going on by tomorrow morning. As for that little meeting Granger thought she had arranged with Draco? Pansy decided she might petrify Draco and show up in his stead, just to teach the little bitch a lesson. Nobody steps on her turf, and all the Slytherin boys were her turf. Especially the good looking ones.


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks so much for all the kind reviews. I hope you enjoy this ;) you now the drill; my work, my ideas, but not my world. JKR owns it all._

The following morning, Hermione stepped out of her room and wandered into the common room. It was nearly empty, but the few people that were there gave her strange looks. She ignored them, but it disturbed her. As she walked to the Great Hall, she noticed the same thing from people scattered throughout the halls. Ducking into a bathroom, she checked herself in a mirror. Nothing was very apparently amiss, so she pressed onward.

Upon entering the Great Hall, Hermione stared at the floor, unwilling to have her appetite ruined by all the stares, and sat down in a seat at the Gryffindor table, serving herself breakfast without looking up. Two bodies plopped down across from her, and she glanced up. Harry and Ron were staring at her angrily. "What are you doing? The plan-" before she could finish her scolding, Harry interrupted her.

"What do you think you're playing at? When I told you you weren't Malfoy's bloody girlfriend, I didn't mean you should change that fact! Honestly, Hermione, what are you thinking?" He stared at her accusingly, and Ron just scowled at the table.

"What are you talking about? I'm not anyone's girlfriend." Hermione was instantly irritated. How very like a boy to come and accuse her of such a thing without even asking her first. And to think he was her best friend! Her stomach churned unpleasantly.

"That's not what everyone else is saying. When Lavender told us she caught you two snogging in the owlry, I thought she was making it up, but after what I've heard today, I don't know what to think. You'd better start talking," growled Ron.

"And what, pray tell, did you hear today? I think I have a right to know what I've been accused of," Hermione looked Harry in the eyes, seriously, and noted that Ron wouldn't even look at her. "Oh for Godric's sake, Ronald, look at me." Ron continued to glare at the table.

"We heard that you and Malfoy were having a very interesting, heartfelt conversation last night. Apparently the two of you had gotten drunk and did _something_ in the library that Malfoy thought was a mistake, and you didn't. I wonder, Hermione, what could that be?" Ron's face was bright red as he said all this, staring at her pumpkin juice hard enough that Harry wondered vaguely if it would burst into flame.

Hermione started laughing manically, much to Harry's discomfort. "Er, Hermione?" he tried to get her attention, but it didn't work out very well. "Hermione," he said a little louder, to no response. "Hermione!" he nearly shouted, but startled her out of her hysterics. "What," he growled, gritting his teeth, "in the name of Merlin is so damn funny?"

"Someone did hear me speaking with Malfoy last night! Ha! Oh Godric, that is rich," she burst into giggles again.

Harry paled. "So it's true? You're with the ferret? Hermione, I thought better of you." He sounded so disappointed, without even a hint of anger in his voice, that Hermione sobered immediately.

"Oh, Harry, no. No, it isn't like that at all. I was talking to Malfoy last night, but whomever heard us twisted our words. We fell asleep in the library, Harry, but we didn't… erm… _Sleep together_, not like that." She reached out across the table and took his hand. "We fell asleep, and he was so furious when he woke up next to the 'poor little mudblood' that he stormed off. I was explaining to him last night that it wasn't like we were drunk, we'd just been tired, and that it wouldn't happen again."

Harry nodded, feeling that she was telling him the truth. "Well, alright. What were you doing in the library with him, anyway?"

Just as Hermione opened her mouth to answer, a cold, familiar voice sounded somewhere behind and just above her. "What our occupation in the library happened to be is of no concern to you, Potter. Weasley, I suggest you listen to your little girlfriend, here, as she's telling you the truth. Do you really think I'd lower myself to that? No amount of drunkenness would affect my sanity so much," he smiled down at Hermione, a hint of maliciousness in his gaze. "No offense, of course, you can't help filth that comes from the inside out."

Hermione reddened; it had been awhile since Draco had abused her quite so much. "Oh, none taken. I'd rather have filthy blood than a black heart any day." Somehow, Hermione managed to keep her voice very cheerful.

Harry and Ron gaped at them. Ron looked as though he were about to be sick, and Harry glanced nervously between Ron and Malfoy, trying to decide which needed his attention more directly. "We'll settle this later, Malfoy," he said, deciding Malfoy could wait. He stood, tugged Ron out of his seat, and walked away.

"Well, well, Granger. Looks like you made up with your pals and won't be needing my assistance anymore. Catch you later," he turned away.

"Malfoy, wait!" Hermione called him back. "I do need you still. Meet me in the hall in a couple minutes, please?"

Malfoy hesitated, then nodded and walked away. Hermione ate quickly, then stood and walked out of the Great Hall, finally understanding the stares. She was used to being a curiosity, but only because of her friendship with Harry. This idea of being stared at because she was supposedly engaged in some forbidden romance unnerved her.

* * *

Malfoy stood in the entrance hall hesitantly, not wanting to be seen wandering around with Granger right after this new rumor had emerged. He was furious; how could someone have eavesdropped on them without any notice? Who was it that was spreading these rumors? It very well could have been anyone.

_So much for the idea of getting back at Potty and the Weasel with Granger, _he thought. _Now we'd better focus on figuring out who's been spying on us. What else do they know?_

He tapped his foot impatiently. How very like Granger to stuff her face, taking all the time in the world, when there were such important things to be handled. His own stomach grumbled, and he regretted not bringing something out of breakfast with him.

The sound of the doors opening behind him interrupted his thoughts, and he looked over his shoulder to see Granger approach him. "Hey," she said with a tentative smile. "I didn't notice you eating anything this morning, and I thought you might be hungry." She held out her hands, offering him a few slices of toast and an apple, wrapped in napkins. "I didn't touch any of it, so you don't have to worry about-"

"Be quiet, Granger. I'm not worried about your hands, I know you're clean," he grabbed the food out of her hands and walked into a nearby empty classroom, listening to her follow him.

"I thought you said-"

"Never mind what I said to those fools you deem worthy of friendship. Appearances must be kept, especially considering what you were discussing." He sighed and ripped into the apple with his teeth.

"Oh," she mumbled, not sure how to respond.

"So, now what do we do? Someone's been tailing us, or at least happened to be in the right place at the right time to make a rumor."

Hermione furrowed her brow, considering his statement. "Well," she began, "I'm not sure how to approach this. Who would be out in that area of the castle so late? What's near there that could have concealed someone so well? I don't think anyone apart from myself, and perhaps you, is capable of a disillusionment charm that would have worked so well. And I don't think anyone has an invisibility cloak, considering their rarity, and-"

"Granger, you're rambling," Malfoy interrupted her between mouthfuls. "I was actually in that area of the castle for a specific reason- there's a small hidden passage near there. I know a few Slytherins that like to go there for a quick fuck, and-" he stopped talking, horror on his face. "_Oh Merlin, no_. I think I know who might've heard us. Pansy Parkinson happened to be missing from the common room last night, and I thought I had better go bust her, but I ran into you and completely forgot. _Shit_," he growled, staring at the apple in his hand before chucking it into the waste bin, appetite lost.

"Oh, Draco, no. If it really was her, what else will she do? Is she able to follow us around and eavesdrop?" Hermione bit her bottom lip, an action Draco Malfoy was beginning to become increasingly aware of every time she did it. He stood up suddenly, walking to the classroom door.

"Not another word," he whispered, beckoning her to follow him. Hermione nodded, slung her bag over her shoulder, and stepped quietly after him.

Up several flights of stairs and down a few halls, Hermione knew exactly where they were headed. She watched Malfoy pace three times outside of the Room of Requirement in silence, wondering what it was that he was going to reveal to her.

"In," he whispered again, once the door appeared. She stepped inside and inspected her surroundings. The room was relatively bare, but a small couch sat in front of a fireplace, a comforting fire crackling inside. She looked at him and waited for him to speak.

Malfoy crossed the room and flopped gracelessly onto the couch, watching Hermione follow suit. He realized he was beginning to rather like her ridiculous hair, and he found that she had a very attractive smile. These thoughts (amongst others) troubled him, and he ushered them back to his subconscious for the time being. "Pansy Parkinson," he said, barely above a whisper, "is a force of gossip to be reckoned with. She lies, but convinces herself her words are the truth, and everyone else believes her, as she obviously believes herself. That's dangerous." He paused, staring into the fire absently. He was aware that Hermione was very close to him, and that she looked soft and inviting. "I don't know how to approach this, other than by making it clear that you and I can never be spotted together again."

"But Draco, I-"

He held up a hand to silence Hermione's protests. "It isn't that I dislike you anymore, Granger. Hermione," he liked the way her name tasted as it rolled off his tongue. "I do like you. More than what is safe for either of us. And that is precisely why we can't be friends. It isn't safe. My father, if he were to find out… Well, it would put a bullseye on the both of us for a killing curse. And you know perfectly well that your friends wouldn't approve, either. You saw their faces today."

"I don't care what they think about you," she mumbled, almost inaudibly.

Draco sighed. "This isn't safe. You could die, and I'll not have you dying because you pity me."

"But I don't pity you!" She cried. "I find your company refreshing after dealing with people that aren't on the same intellectual level as I for so long."

"But you said it yourself this morning, Granger. You think my heart is black and dead, and you won't ever actually enjoy my company. It'll stay 'refreshing' until you get bored, and that'll be that." He looked very morose, staring into the fire like that.

"Draco, I said that to combat what you said to me. For appearance. I don't really feel that way." The pair sat in companionable silence for a long while. "So, what do we do about this mess that Pansy's made?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. I can't very well keep tabs on her whereabouts all the time-"

"Oh!" Hermione cried, interrupting him. "But I can!" He quirked an eyebrow and watched her as she rummaged around in her bag, finally digging out a ratty old bit of parchment and holding it into the air, a look of triumph written across her face.

"Spare parchment?" he asked, confused. "How will that be helpful?"

"Not just any spare parchment. It's an enchanted map, I nicked it out of Harry's trunk the other night. That's how I knew where you'd be."

Draco's mouth nearly dropped open in shock, but he remembered his Pureblood manners, and held his jaw in place. "I don't understand."

"Look!" She mumbled a few words over the map, clearly trying to keep Draco from hearing what she'd said. A map of the school appeared, and dots with names under them moved about. "We can track everyone's movements with this," she looked at his mischievously, delighted in the look of awe settled across his features.

"Didn't you see her on the map when you came looking for me?"

Hermione scowled. "Er, no, I don't think so… In fact, that particular passage isn't even on this map, it must be relatively new."

Draco stared at her openly. "Where did Potter get this?"

Hermione grinned. "Can't say. But I will tell you this- we can't keep it for very long. Harry's obsessive about this, I can't believe he hasn't missed it yet."

Draco looked crestfallen; like he was a young child and had just been told Christmas was cancelled.

Hermione bit her lip again, and Draco felt a twinge of longing. "I might be able to copy it, if this spell works the way I think it might." A look of intense concentration crossed her features, and she began to move her wand in a complex series of patterns, murmuring a spell Draco was sure he'd never heard before. A few moments later, and the map tore down the middle, each half expanding to the original map's previous size. Draco glanced up at her face, unsure of what had happened, and saw delight written there. He grinned, then looked down at the parchment held in her hands. There were two copies of the map, apparently fully functional, as he watched the names on both maps move in synch.

Unthinking, and unable to stop himself even if he had been thinking, Draco threw himself across the distance between them, and kissed Hermione with desperate passion, enthralled by her genius.

* * *

Harry and Ginny sat in the Gryffindor common room, waiting for Hermione to return. Ron had been so angry that he went up to his room and trashed the place, then waved his wand to fix everything, and crawled into bed, where he would remain for a few hours.

"Wonder what's taking her so long," Ginny mused, looking up at Harry. "D'you think Malfoy found her and is giving her a hard time?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "I don't know what's going on with them. All those rumors make me worried about what they're up to, but she told me it isn't true, and I trust her. Still, though, something doesn't feel quite right about it. I think I'm going to tell her the investigation is over."

Ginny moved to sit closer to Harry. "Would it be so awful?" she asked him earnestly.

"Would what be?"

"If they were true. If Hermione and Malfoy _were_ together. I don't see all that much wrong with it, to be honest. He's a git, yeah, but if she sees something more to him than that, and if she trusts him, then I trust her judgment. She's hardly been very wrong before."

Harry stared at her blankly, taking her hand in his. "You girls are going to be the death of me. You can't trust someone like Malfoy. I'm positive he's up to something, and you're both so ready to see the good in everyone. How am I supposed to protect you if you won't protect yourselves?"

"Hermione doesn't need protecting, Harry," she rubbed her thumb across his gently, soothing him. "She's strong and can do things on her own."

Harry sighed. "If I didn't know better, I'd almost think you were hoping something does happen between them."

Ginny laughed, but thought about how she actually did support the idea. Hermione needed to get herself out there, and who cares if she did it with Malfoy? He was good looking and smart. If he could get past his issues with muggle-borns to be with her, there must be something more to him than what met the eye.

* * *

"Draco, hello? Anybody in there?" Hermione snapped her fingers in front of Draco's glazed eyes, trying to bring him out of his reverie.

"Sorry," he grunted. "Just daydreaming." He frowned to himself. Of all the things to imagine, he had to imagine he'd snogged her. Her. Hermione Granger, the mudblood.

What had he gotten himself into?


End file.
